


Not Even Once

by trashrings



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bondage, Chastity, Cock Cage, D/s, Denial, Dubious Consent, Kinky, M/M, Mild sci-fi elements, NSFW, Smut, long term chastity, mental augmentation sort of, not quite mind control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 18:04:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11995122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashrings/pseuds/trashrings
Summary: Society found a way to curb sexually based crimes and all the problems that arise from the hormones of young people. For Grant, it just opens the door to a world of kink and frustration.





	Not Even Once

At long last, there was a solution to some of the most heinous behavior. In solving that, other issues were solved and society found itself in a sort of peace. But that was long ago, and that solution was just a way of life, now. Something that Grant would have to soon make a very important decision on.

All boys were fitted with a device when they were young. It tempered urges and prevented them from acting on them before they were deemed ready. At his eighteenth birthday, Grant was given the key to his. A cage that he'd worn so long he struggled to consider a life without it. Most boys his age unlocked it immediately, freeing their cocks and reveling in all that they could experience now. But instead, Grant waited. He wanted that moment to be special. He wanted it to be with someone. 

Each cage adapts to the wearer. Grant's had become something of an extreme case, as he'd triggered a few warning signs unintentionally. He'd been curious, like any other young man, or so he thought. The whole system is monitored by an automated program that carefully evaluates each case. There is no way to appeal new limits, as warnings are given to cease the behavior that causes them. Grant didn't listen. For the most part, young men are allowed some moderate form of release, such as might happen in one's sleep. That was the first thing to go, as Grant's hands tended to wander. Later, he discovered he could achieve some rather interesting feelings through anal stimulation. However, before he could explore that very far, that too was taken from him. He tried to fight the new limitation, but there was nothing physical about it that he could push or remove. Something from the cage simply prevented it from happening, without interfering with other biological needs. 

Logically, Grant should have unlocked his cage the moment he got his key. He could have had all that he'd been locked away from. But still he'd hesitated. This frustration had become his daily life, it seemed strange to just end it without ceremony. 

The weekend following his birthday, he decided to attend a very specific club. Every other Saturday night, boys who had recently received their keys would offer them up to anyone who wanted to be their first. Everyone seemed to know what they wanted, but Grant wasn't quite sure. So when someone asked, he'd managed an unsteady "I'm up for anything." Little did he know what he was in for.

Most pairs went off to a back room. Grant expected that to be the next step. But the man who'd accepted his key merely placed it in his pocket and told Grant to meet him at a specific address the following afternoon. He didn't ask questions, too stunned by this sudden twist. Did it mean something special? Something more private? The guy was older than the usual club goers, maybe he just didn't like to do it in the back room. 

Grant soon realized his mistake. He found out that it would be another three years before he'd be unlocked. He could agree to that or try his hand at the club another time. All Grant knew was that the threat--or promise--affected him in a way he couldn't quite explain. It thrilled him more than it scared him, making his stomach, well something below his stomach, tingle. So he agreed to this man's training. A man he still only knew as "sir." A man who seemed delighted to discover how limited the cage had left Grant.

His first and most rigorous training was the most important. Since only his mouth was available, he would be trained to give the best head possible. "When I'm through with you, you'll be the only virgin to suck like a slut," Sir had told him. A phrase that made Grant's cage so tight it felt suffocating. 

Other lessons came after, mostly in patience and endurance. Being tied up however Sir deemed necessary, until he stopped shaking from it, until he grew more flexible, more patient. That is, until the day he made the mistake of asking if Sir was serious about the three years, if he could earn it sooner. What he ended up earning was several hours wrapped so completely head to toe, he couldn't so much as wiggle. A small vibrator nestled behind his balls taught him just how much that cage was holding back. His body screamed for release that would never come, just as he tried to scream behind the muffling gag. 

He learned to not ask questions after that.

But that torment and frustration could never compare to what he felt as he approached Sir's door. It was a few days passed his 21st birthday. Three years, as promised. His cock throbbed hard in the cage that would soon be removed. But there were other promises looming.

To further solve society's problems, any person not in college was to find a sponsor. Something like an internship or apprenticeship. Learning a trade or providing services to someone while they tried to find their place in the world. Typically, the young person would move in with their sponsor, or the sponsor would provide other accommodations. Sir had said they would discuss this as a possibility before the cage was removed. The possible meaning of that had raged insead Grant's mind for days, making him more frustrated by the minute. Before he could lose his nerve, he rapped his knuckles on the door as he had done several times a week for the last three years. 

He stepped back and waited, his hands clasped behind his back, his head down, just as he'd been taught. This was part of the patience training. He must wait as long as necessary. Once Sir had left him waiting for nearly an hour. That had been punishment for the visit before when he had grown impatient and knocked a second time. 

This time, thankfully, Sir opened the door in less than a minute. Grant was taken inside and led to their usual room. Every wall was sleek and dark, hiding every tool imaginable for training and pleasure. Today there was only a single chair in the middle of the room. 

As he'd been trained, the moment Grant set foot into the room, he stripped his clothes off, folding them carefully and leaving them beside the door. He was left wearing only two things. The cage which he'd never been without and a slim silver bracelet that he'd taken as a collar. Something to mark him as belonging to Sir, which was to never be removed. After today, he'd be down to only one item.

With Sir's permission, he settled into the chair. It wasn't an office chair, like it had first appeared. It was like a slim, compact version of a dentist's chair, every part of it able to move, tilt, or expand as needed. The last time he'd sat in it, the moment he touched it straps sprang out of it, holding him down. But this time, nothing happened. Not even as he rested his hands on the arms.

"As promised," Sir began, standing before Grant, "We are to discuss the possibility of me being your...sponsor." The way he hesitated, the way he emphasized the word, sent a chill down Grant's spine. Should he be worried? 

Grant remained quiet. He did not speak unless commanded to or asked a direct question. He just nodded.

"And I'm certain you're eager to at last be free of your little cage now that you've fulfilled your obligation to me."

Grant nodded again, emphatically.

"Then you are left with a choice. I will take you on, sponsor you completely and allow you to live here, under one condition." He seemed to be gathering his thoughts, leaving Grant suspended over a chasm of agonizing anticipation. What condition?! He couldn't even begin to fathom what it could be, but he'd be willing to do anything to stay on with Sir. To continue his training. 

After a few moments, Sir cleared his throat. "That condition being you forfeit your orgasm completely." 

Grant felt his stomach drop. 

"I only take on virgins. So you must agree to be fitted with a permanent cage, forfeiting your right to orgasm completely." 

Grant licked his lips, his gaze dropping. He desperately wanted his cage off, it's all he'd wanted for these last three years. But could he miss what he'd never had? He'd been so focused on Sir being his sponsor, he hadn't considered anything else. He'd not even looked at another option. 

"I don't want you to decide just yet," Sir pressed on. "It doesn't matter now unless you make your choice after we get you out of that sad little cage. I will allow you to get close. Then and only then can you choose whether you want to stay or not." 

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a vial. In it was a strange, silvery liquid. "This is a little concoction I've come up with. It's similar to the sort of things you've been taking all your life. It will ensure you have enough time to decide. We wouldn't want you popping off the moment your cage was removed."

Grant took the vial as it was offered to him. Wrapping his fingers around it, he looked down at his trapped cock. If he could choose right now, he'd take Sir's new cage. He'd get over it, as he was accustomed to a vague frustration as the background noise of his life. But if he knew what a true erection felt like, could he turn away from it? Would he want more? What if he just refused right now, and decided to find another sponsor, would Sir unlock him? 

While questions swirled in his head, he pulled out the stopper and swallowed the liquid before he could ask anything to make him hesitate further. It didn't taste like anything, but it made his tongue tingle. It seemed to flood through him, the tingle turning to warmth as it spread to his fingers, his toes, his cock. A vague calm seemed to settle over him, his frayed nerves coming back together. Wordlessly, he handed the empty vial back to Sir.

"There's a good boy, now just sit back, won't you?"

He did as he was told, leaning back as the chair extended and sighed backwards. It left him reclined, staring up at the ceiling as straps slithered around his form. At wrists, elbows, ankles and knees. Nothing over his head, throat or torso this time. Sir was going light on him.

He was able to lift his head to watch as Sir produced the key Grant had not seen in three years. With a simple twist in the barrel of the lock, the cage seemed to just fall away.

Grant held his breath. This was what he'd been waiting so long for. His heart hammered in his chest as he watched. Sir's fingers wrapped around him as his cock stiffened. It was the most electric thing he'd ever felt. His head dropped back as for the first time, he felt sir stroke his cock without anything between them. Immediately he understood why he needed help. That seemed to be enough to make him explode in every possible way. 

Sir's fingers worked deftly over his shaft. His thumb worked over his tip, his free hand cupped his balls, kneading and massaging them. That made his hips buck. Denied for so long, his balls felt swollen and tender. Within just a few minutes, he was writhing and panting in the chair. He pulled at his bonds, wanting to feel more, wanting to do it himself. A heat was building inside him unlike anything held felt before. Sir had pushed and tormented him, left him teased and aroused for hours. But it seemed his cage had been holding more at bay than an erection. Something white-hot was gathering deep inside him, a building pressure that he could barely comprehend.

And still, Sir's fingers worked him over. They seemed know just the right spots to hit to build that pressure further. Grant's hips thrust up into each stroke, desperate whines tearing from his throat. 

The immensity of that pressure started to scare him. It felt like if it didn't stop, if kept growing enough to push free, it might tear him apart from the inside. But he wanted it, oh god he wanted it to destroy him. 

"You see, boy? This is what I was worried about. You're already on the verge of release. If not for my little helper, any moment you wouldn't be able to stop it. But now," he dragged his fingertips over Grant's shaft. "We can go as long as I deem necessary." 

Grant didn't know how much more of this he could endure. He let out a desperate whimper, his hips shuddering. But Sir's fingers did not relent. They continued to stroke and tease, adding to that white-hot pressure. That heat seemed to be filling Grant completely, flooding over him. But still it was held at bay, still it couldn't find an outlet. 

Biting hard on his tongue, he kept himself from begging. Begging would only lead to punishment. He wanted to give his answer, but he hadn't been asked. He gripped hard at the arms of the chair, his eyes shut tight. Everything focused down to where Sir's fingers touched him. Nothing mattered but that. Nothing mattered but what Sir gave him.

When he thought he couldn't hold any more, when he thought he would simply evaporate from the heat that made his limbs tremble, Sir finally spoke again. "Now, what is your decision, boy?"

RELEASE, Grant told himself to say. He wanted an orgasm, he wanted it more than he wanted anything else. But when he opened his mouth to speak, he said "Th-the cage!" He blurted it out before he could stop himself. "I want to stay with you, Sir! I want to be yours!" His voice ragged, he knew deep in his heart that is what he wanted in the end. He didn't want release, he wanted this feeling to go on and on. 

"Good, good..." Sir said, sounding amused. "I knew you'd make the correct choice." Still his fingers did not stop. "Now, do you agree to my terms? Do you forfeit your orgasm and commit to a lifelong cage?"

"Yes..." Grant breathed out, his head rolling against the back of the chair. 

"Say it."

"I..." He had to take a steadying breath. "I forfeit my orgasm to you, sir. Forever. To be locked in a cage, always. I agree to your terms! I..." His words faltered, his eyes rolling back as Sir continued to stroke him. "I give..." his words trailed off into a whine as the overwhelming sensation clouded his mind. He couldn't think of what he was going to say next.

"Excellent," Sir said, stroking harder. "That really does work best, as what I gave you has been known to take months to wear off. Now we don't have to worry about that."

Grant lifted his head, letting out a soft sound of confusion. Months? He didn't understand. And why wasn't Sir stopping? Shouldn't he be getting a cage?

"I just want to be sure it's taken proper hold. As once my cage gets put on you, it makes it permanent. Even if you manage to somehow remove the cage, you will never orgasm." Grant caught a glimpse of a wicked smile playing across Sir's lips before another wave of pleasure made his hips buck and his head press back against the chair.

It was absolute agony. But why? Anything before hadn't felt this intense. Not even hours with a vibrator on his cage. It had barely been fifteen minutes and tears were already forming at the corners of his eyes. He could only let out an agonized groan.

"Didn't you know?" Sir teased. "Those 'official' cages suppress a lot more than orgasm. They tend to prevent you from getting anywhere close, suppressing libido. Ingenious, really. But not at all what I'd prefer. Which is why what I gave you does the exact opposite. While preventing orgasm, it super-charges your libido. Leaving you desperate for what you can't have."

Grant lifted his head again, starting to wonder if he'd made the wrong choice. He tugged at his bonds, wanting to disobey his training and make demands. But another wave of pleasure punched him back down, leaving him to squirm and shudder.

Sir continued in silence for some time, as Grant just gave in to the overwhelming heat that threatened to consume him. He found it difficult to breathe, as wave after wave of pure need washed over him. 

Finally, Sir released him and he stepped back. Grant sagged against the chair, dragging in ragged breaths. He could feel his pulse in every inch of his body, desperate and trembling. 

"Now, how did that feel?"

Grant knew he should have a response to that. He had several, in fact, but he struggled to find the words but the utterly escaped him. He frowned, starting to panic. He'd be punished if he didn't respond. He tried to find any words, but they seemed to be slipping through his fingers like water.

"Good," Sir said after a few moments. "The other aspect is working as well."

Grant looked up, perplexed.

"It's said that virgins have no voice in society," He was referring to the fact that they are typically too young to participate. "I simply take that literally. I've left you with a few vital words and phrases, but nothing more." 

He reached down to stroke Grant's cock once more. Grant shuddered, letting out a needy whine. 

"I haven't silenced you completely, but you'll also find you won't be able to get too loud, either. Just as you should be." 

He moved over to one of the panelled back walls, opening one of the compartments. When he returned, he held what appeared to be a black disk, no bigger than a coin. 

Pressing it to the tip of Grant's cock, and with a tap to the edge, it expanded. It unfurled tendrils of some sort of black material that wound their way around Grant's erection. It hugged him tight, spiraling down the shaft. It squeezed and compressed him, making him gasp. The material turned cold, too cold, and his erection began to fade. When at last it returned to room temperature and seemed to solidify, his cock was hugged tight by some sort of black polymer. It created a vented sleeve that felt as rigid as steel. It was smaller than his old cage had been, gripping him hard. 

This was how he was to live, now? Desperate and crushed by a cage? Only then did he realize he'd never actually asked what being sponsored by Sir would entail. His head dropped back against the chair and he let out a soft whine.

It appeared that Sir was not finished. He tapped something on the chair and more straps moved over him. One at his waist, one across his chest. Over his thighs and upper arms. Another tap and the belts released from the chair. The twisted and wrapped around him. Leaving him with straps all over him like bracelets and belts. He watched as they sealed themselves, and silver rings seemed to sprout from the black leather. 

He looked to Sir for explanation. There didn't seem to be a way to take these things off.

"Every few months, we will make adjustments to your cage. It will become smaller and smaller, until I am satisfied with the size." 

SMALLER? How could it be any smaller?

"Now, as for those phrases you are allowed. Simply repeat after me."

Grant looked to him, still wanting answers. 

"Please, Sir." 

Grant wanted to growl his frustration, but when he opened his mouth, the words "Please, Sir," fell out. 

He blinked.

"Yes, Sir." 

 

Again, Grant repeated it without meaning to.

"More, Sir." 

A third time, he repeated it.

"Good, that is all you will ever need. Do you understand?"

He wanted to say a great deal more than that. He wanted answers. He wanted to know what he was expected to do, now. But instead he sullenly said "Yes, Sir." 

"Perfect. I will show you to sleeping quarters. We will get started first thing in the morning."

Grant slowly got to his feet and moved for the door he'd come through. But instead, Sir grabbed him by the arm and led him toward the opposite side of the room. 

"Oh, before I forget..." He stopped Grant and produced a collar from his pocket. It was a strip of leather adorned with a multitude of silver rings, each one hung with a round ring, making it jingle with every movement. Fastened in the center was a tag that had the number 27 on it. That number had no meaning to him. But before he could even try to think of how to convey what he wanted to know, Sir fastened it around his throat. Like the other straps, it seemed to close itself without buckles. 

Without a word, Sir opened a door at the back of the room that led to a hallway that was lined with doors. He glanced back at the other door, seeing his clothes were no longer there.

He was led to a room marked with the same number as his collar. Standing outside the door, Sir started to fasten several of the rings. Wrists were connected behind his back, then fixed to the belt around his waist. Upper arms to the strap around his chest. Ankles together, as well as knees. He could barely move his limbs and might fall over if he tried. 

The room on the other side of the door was little more than a closet with a bed. Sir carried him to the bed, where his ankles were fastened to a ring in the footboard. 

"Rest up," Sir said as he returned to the door, "You have a big day tomorrow."

As the door slid shut, Grant began to realize he had no idea what he'd gotten himself into. Nor was he the first to end up in this position. Far from it. In fact, there were 26 others before him. But how man still remained in the house?

**Author's Note:**

> I originally had this whole idea of him getting sealed up in a high tech latex suit along with the cage, to control him further. But I figured the brain-altering nanites were more than enough control. For now.


End file.
